Porch Steps
by teh-Sara
Summary: “Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I know what love is. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in love. Maybe you can explain it.” – Sawyer/Juliet.


**Title:** Porch Steps

**Summary:** "Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I know what love is. I'm not sure I've ever been in love. Maybe you can explain it." – Sawyer/Juliet.

**Author's Note:** I'm on a one-shot spree! Somebody better stop me before I use up all my creative energy! This isn't too angst-ridden, I don't think. I wonder if I'll ever write fluff. It seems foreign to me. The majority of this story takes place during those missing three years, about a year and a half in. After the break, there's a little glimpse of 5x15, so spoilers lurk there if you haven't seen it.

I love reviews, but don't we all? Leave them for me. =)

Enjoy,

Sara

*

The front porch steps had always been a place of lively conversation. It was the place that Sawyer had, two times before, convinced Juliet to stay after she agreed initially on the docks. Third time's the charm, he thought. It was the place they'd be sitting when Daniel announced that he was joining a research crew; he had to get away from town for a while, he'd explained, but he couldn't imagine leaving forever. It was the place Sawyer brought her beer one night when she'd tried to sneak away, but the creaky boards in the front room had given her away. It was the place she'd cried and told him that she had loved Jack – and maybe she still did. It was the place he never admitted he loved Kate – not because he didn't want Juliet to know, but because he honestly wasn't sure if he did.

She was sitting there when he came home from work, still clad in her motor pool jumpsuit, navy to mask the grease. He figured she hadn't even gone inside. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, but a few strands had escaped and blew comically in the breeze.

"Do you think they'll come back?" She didn't look up at him, couldn't, he guessed. He couldn't remember the last time she'd asked. Months, a year? In the beginning, it was every day. Every day they didn't return was a step farther from Jack, for her.

He sat down beside her, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "No." He was honest. He tried always to be honest with her, but it was hard – he'd been a con-man all of his life. Even now, in Dharmaville, he was still conning. Sometimes he forgot what was true and what was lie. "Why, Juliet?"

"Just wondering," she said, childlike in her syntax. She looked at him and smiled. He marveled at how well he could see himself reflected in her eyes. But what he saw there was different from what she saw. He still saw Sawyer; she saw James.

"You think they will?" He asked.

"Do you want them to?"

"Don't answer a question with a question," he teased. In truth, he wanted desperately to avoid the question.

"No, I don't think they'll come back," she said, "Do you want them to?"

"I don't know," he answered. "Do you want them to?"

"I don't know."

He suspected that she did know, but she wouldn't answer. Not with the vague answer he'd given her. "You do know."

"So do you."

He felt caught, cut open, laid out on the operating table for her to see. Everything inside him, everything that made him tick – she saw it. Wanted to, even, _tried_ to. "How'd you get to know me so damn well?"

She smiled. "Just tell me," she said, "and I won't tell anyone."

"You think you're smart. Ain't nobody to tell, sweetheart."

She just sat, waiting for him to say something. That's something she did – waited. Sometimes, when she really wanted to know something, she could wait all day. She wouldn't talk to him, not out of malice, but to drive him insane. It worked; he guessed she knew that.

"I miss her," he admitted.

Juliet continued to look him square in the eye. He couldn't tell if that's what she wanted to know or not. She rarely showed shock or surprise. Sometimes he wondered how much Valium she took in a day. Sometimes he wondered when she'd break.

He continued, not because he wanted to, but because he felt obligated. "No, Juliet, I don't want'em to come back. She made her choice."

Juliet nodded.

"Now, you turn." He grinned at him.

"He made his choice," she echoed. This was the first time they'd spoken about Jack since she'd cried, since she'd been distraught over it all, wondering if he'd lived or died, if he'd come back for her. He'd promised, but he'd promised many things to many people. "Did you love her?"

He laughed. "Can I get by with saying 'I don't know'?"

"No." She smiled.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I know what love is. I'm not sure I've ever been in love. Maybe you can explain it."

She mulled this over in her mind, but answered, "It's when you'd do anything for the person, even if it meant sacrificing part of yourself – all of yourself. You just want the best for them. You want to be with them forever, but maybe that's not how it's supposed to be. It's when you can let someone go, if you have to."

Sawyer watched her as she spoke, wondering if she was talking about Jack or someone else. He thought of how he felt when he saw Kate in danger, saw her in pain…saw her, in general. "You know, I think I might've loved her then."

Juliet nodded.

"Why'd you stay, Juliet?"

She tilted her head and laughed. "Which time?"

"Every time."

"Because there's nothing to go home to."

"But there's something to stay for?" He could've kicked himself. He always asked the most stupid questions.

She eyed him. "Well, yes. I thought they'd come back and then I could go home. I could be with my sister and my nephew…I could help babysit. If I went home now, I'd have to babysit myself!"

He chuckled and replayed her words in his head. "But now you said they ain't coming back."

"So I guess I'm just stuck here."

He rubbed his chest and hissed, "Ouch, that hurts."

She only grinned, like she always did when he joked around with her. He stood and offered her his hand, which she pondered briefly and took. He led the way inside, her hand still in his; she didn't let go until they were inside.

*

Now nearly a year and a half after, he heard her words echoing in his ears.

"_It's when you'd do anything for the person, even if it meant sacrificing part of yourself – all of yourself. You just want the best for them…"_

Phil hit her; bile rose in Sawyer's throat and burned all the way up into his nose. Tears welled in her eyes – the same eyes that saw him for what he truly was. They, the Dharma workers, knew this is the way they could get him to spill everything. He could take his own beating, but he wouldn't let her take it.

He agreed to draw the map. He couldn't let her be hurt again.

He knew she was right – love meant sacrificing part of himself for her.

It meant sacrificing Kate.


End file.
